


Aftermath

by 4ever_Rewritten



Category: The Umbrella Academy (TV)
Genre: Allison is mentioned, F/M, I promise a happy ending though, Mentions of Blood, Nobody is Dead, Period-Typical Racism, Slice of Life, Slow Burn, but i digress, but no major role, expect angst, may appear in flashbacks, mention attempted murder, not by Reader, oddly enough, other than the bullshit she caused
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-08-16
Updated: 2020-09-20
Packaged: 2021-03-05 23:41:11
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 6
Words: 18,482
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25943755
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/4ever_Rewritten/pseuds/4ever_Rewritten
Summary: The creators should know just because someone passes out doesn't mean they're dead.Raymond Chestnut gets a harsh surprise when he realizes the body in his living room isn't actually dead. Now he has a severely injured white man, who tried to kill him, to deal with. Thankfully; he knows a friend who might be able to help.--+--Lorelei was used to people coming to her for medical attention. But when Raymond brings Otto to her home, nothing could prepare for how her life was about to change.Includes: Angst! Bad medical practices! (and not the sexy kind) Suddenly adopting a dozen cats, and two people with abandonment issues finding each other (but a slow-burn variety)And tooth-rotting fluff eventually.
Relationships: Implied Allison Hargreeves/Raymond Chestnut, Otto (umbrella Academy/Original Character
Comments: 12
Kudos: 66





	1. Chapter 1

Herb did not, in fact, take away the dead body. 

It was still sitting in Raymond's living room after everyone else had disappeared in flashes of blue lights. Wrapped up in the rug his sister had gifted him and Allison on their wedding day. Silent. Foreboding. 

Raymond watched it as he sipped at his scotch. There was no way in hell he could move it by himself. And who could he trust to move it?  
To move _him._

That wasn't an _it_ , that was a ‘him’. That was a human body resting in his living room. Who, admittedly, tried to kill him and Allison. But still, he could at least acknowledge him as a fellow human. After all, Raymond had tried so hard to be the respectful and peaceful man his grandmother raised him to be. Even when faced with the violence because of the protests, being unfairly treated te after time, he never raised so much as a hand to another human being. 

But here he was: stuck with a dead white man in his living room. It didn't matter that the man and his brother had forced their way into their home ( _his_ home, now that Allison was gone) with intent to kill both of them. The white man was dead in _his_ house, and he was alive and relatively unharmed. 

He would go to prison. He was going to be _hung_ for this. Raymond tipped the rest of the scotch back and poured another full glass. All of his work, gone.  
It was probably a good thing Allison had...left to be with her family. It was comforting to know she was safe and alive. A small cold comfort, but a comfort nonetheless. 

His lips touched the cool glass when he heard it. A noise so soft he was sure he had imagined it. Still, it made him freeze, his body tense as he held his breath, eyes darting to the rug. 

No. The man was dead. It had been hours since the attack. There was no way. 

Raymond shook his head, deciding it was probably just the house settling, and shot back the drink, feeling the burn in his throat match the burn of his eyes. His whole life had just ended. It wouldn't be long and he would join…

His somber thoughts were cut off by another sound, this one unmistakable. Raymond jumped to his feet, throwing his glass out of reflex towards the body, which made a grunt when the glass bounced off the rug and shattered on the floor, she shards miking with the alcohol. 

Raymond grabbed a knife off the table, careless that it was nothing more than a butter knife as he held it out waveringly.  
Silence. No further sounds. No movement. Raymond stood frozen, eyes trained on the body, and mentally dared it to do something. Anything.  
If it did, he would...he would…

The rug moved and a groan cut through the heavy silence. There was no doubting the haggard breathing and muffled moan of pain. Raymond cursed every foul word his grandma would wash his mouth out for and ran back to the kitchen to grab an actual knife. The long thick butcher’s knife his wife had used so skillfully once upon a time. 

He pushed that sober realization away and stalked back to the living room, gripping the wooden handle tightly in his shaking hand. Raymond towered over the rug, knife poised to strike. He had to do something swift. Otherwise…

He was a dead man anyway. The thought silenced the instinct to strike, and the knife clattered harmlessly to the floor. He was going to die either way, but wouldn't it be better to die innocent than guilty? Not just for his soul, but for the movement. His brother and sisters?

He dropped to his knees and desperately undid the knots he and Allison had tied, allowing the rug to fall open. The man's face was no longer placid with death, but grimacing in pain, lips pursed as he sucked in haggard breaths. The blood was caked around the remains of his right eye, bruises coloring his neck, but otherwise, he was almost as pale as his white hair. 

"Hey, uh buddy," Raymond said as he placed a hand on his shoulder, earning a painful grunt and he quickly removed it. "Right. Sorry. Let's… let's get you a hospital." Except questions would be asked, and he would be arrested. 

But…

"Actually, I think I know someone."

\--+--

Lorelei groaned as she fell into the old couch, slipping off her shoes and rubbing the knots in her feet. The third shift in a row at Parkland Memorial Hospital left her sore and exhausted. This week had been nuts, between the street shooting and the asylum patients escaping.

Then there was the man found in the woods. She grimaced at the memory of being called down to the OR because they had been short-staffed. Dr. Wilson had done his best, but they all had their doubts.

Her eyes were starting to drift shut when there was a bang on the door, hard and frantic enough to rattle the windows. Her eyes shot back open and she jumped up out of instinct, her heart thundering in her chest as she stumbled around the coffee table to open the door. 

Raymond Chestnut stood on her aged porch, a pale man nearly twice his size in a bloodied suit draped partially over his shoulder. 

"What the hell?" she started. Usually, it was some neighborhood kids coming to her for help this late, or someone else in their community. A car engine broke the otherwise quiet night further down the street. Raymond shot her a look, panicked and trembling under the other man's weight, and she didn't need any further encouragement to slip underneath the man's other arm and help Raymond drag him into her home and ease him onto the old couch that was far too small for the man.

Her stomach curdled at the wounds she saw, though the bloody mess of an eye was probably the worst. "Shit. We need him in a hospital, Raymond."

"I know!" He hissed back, keeping his voice low despite the privacy. "But can you imagine me pulling in the ER with him like this? I'd be swarmed with police, Lei, and be lynched by dawn!" 

"What even happened?" She asked, undoing the silk tie to study the bruising around his neck. Obviously not an accident, but if Raymond got in a fight, why would he bring the man here?

Nevermind that Raymond was as pacifist as it got, and she couldn't see him doing ... _this._

"You wouldn't believe me if I told you," he stated with a dry tone, wiping the sweat from his brow. 

She shot him a look, "I worked in the ER on a full moon on Halloween this year. _Try me_."

Before he could even start, she disappeared into her kitchen, and he could hear the faucet running as she rummaged through drawers. Within a minute she was back with a basin of water and more than a few washcloths. "Well?" She snipped as she damped a washcloth and worked on the caked blood around his eye, making the man hiss and flinch, his other eye fluttering slightly. 

"Him and his brother came to my house, attacked me and my wife. Allison did that," he gestured to the eye covered by a washcloth, "before telling his brother to kill him. Which I certainly thought he did when he strangled him, but nope, here we are."

Lorelei paused and looked at him, trying to see a hint of a lie. Raymond was a poor liar, and Allison, while always a bit different and headstrong for sure, was still a lady. She had a hard time seeing the hairdresser stabbing someone. 

Granted, being attacked in her own home… 

"Come on. Let's get him back in your car. He needs a doctor, We can say we found him on my doorstep like this. Dr. Cahoy is working tonight, and..."

The man's hand shot up and gripped Lorelei's wrist tightly, making her freeze and Raymond jump. The man's other eye was open and staring hard at her. "No."

"No?" She repeated, falling into her working persona. "I can't treat the trauma to that eye. We need to take you to the hospital."

"No," he repeated, his hand tightening slightly, his fingers easily encompassing her wrist. 

Yet it wasn't quite strong enough to hurt. She ground her teeth at the stubbornness on his face, studying the dark grey-blue eye staring back at her. "Fine. But in return for my services you have to promise not to go after Ray and Allie, okay? Or any negro for that matter."

His eye glanced briefly at Raymond before fluttering close, and he let go of her. Lorelei stood, rubbing her wrist as she thought. This was a bad idea. A very bad idea. White men could get the care they need at the drop of a hat. She saved her stores for others truly in trouble. 

Yet something in her gut was leading her towards an idea that there was something was not quite right. He only said one word, but there was a definite accent to it, and not one she was familiar with either. 

"Ray, start boiling some water. There's a pack of gauze and gloves under the sink."

Raymond didn't ask any questions but nodded his head and followed her directions. Lorelei sighed as she touched the man's shoulder, making him crack open his good eye once more. "I'm serious here. I am not a doctor. I can do my best, but I doubt I can save your eye. You need a hospital."

"No," he repeated, though this time softer. Almost apologetic. 

She pushed the thought away. "Do you have any plans to hurt Ray or Allie?"

"...no." he closed his eye, becoming stoic but not before she saw a flash of something. Anguish? Regret? Or just pain? 

"I'm holding you to that. Now, give me a name I can call you. Don't need to be your real one," she continued as he looked at her strangely. "I just need a name you'll answer to."

"...Otto." That time she caught the accent but still didn't have an idea from where. 

"Well Otto, I'm Lorelei, but you can call me Lei. And this is probably going to hurt like a son of a bitch."


	2. Two

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Trigger warnings for blood and slight mention of gore?

Lorelei had to admit: Otto's pain tolerance was astonishingly high. Sure she had slipped him a couple of the stronger pain pills she had stored away, but Lorelei still expected screams and curses as she tended to the mess of his eye.

Once she realized how severe the damage was, she tried again to persuade him to let them take him to a hospital.

"No." 

"Do you understand what I'm saying?" She all but pleaded, pulling away her bloodied rag to focus on his good eye, wishing she could put her hands on her hips. "Your eye is severely damaged. I don't know what to do other than remove it, and I--"

"Remove it," he interrupted, closing his good eye as if that was the end of the conversation. Lorelei paled, and she was fairly sure Raymond, her unofficial helper, swore under his breath. 

"I've only watched that procedure a few times," she continued, stressing her words. "I am not a surgeon. I am a nurse. Do you really trust me to--"

"Yes."

The short answer floored her, making her stomach twist. Otto opened his grey-blue eye, meeting her's with absolute conviction. He didn't know her. He was about to lose his eye. And yet he seemed barely fazed. 

"Ok. Okay then. Ray, drag that chair closer. I think I have a surgical text upstairs..."

"Lei, you can't…" He protested as she stripped her gloves, muttering to herself about supplies.

"I've done worse," she admitted as she disappeared up the stairs. 

Less than an hour later, she had a surgical text propped on the coffee table to guide her through the procedure of removing the remains of his eye. She expected it _not_ to go well considering her lack of sedatives, but the most he vocalized was a few pained grunts before catching himself and clenching his teeth. She was honestly more worried about Raymond passing out than she was her patient, seeing the dark man pale and waiver more than a few times when she spared him a glance. 

Raymond disappeared into the bathroom as soon as she admitted she didn't need his help anymore followed by the sounds of retching. Lorelei finished wrapping gauze to hold the bandaging in place, sighing once she was done. 

"I have some antibiotics I want you to take," she admitted, stripping off her gloves for the final time. "Do...do you have someone to look after you?" She paused, studying his rather expressionless face, and his blue-grey quickly looked away from her, confirming her fears. 

She offered her hand, slowly helping him sit up. "I have a spare room, so you can stay here until you get your strength back. I know my place isn't much, but it'll let me keep an eye on that too."

He nodded his head slightly, looking rather defeated. Feeling somewhat awkward, Lorelei continued as she tried to straighten up the mess. "And besides, it's like Nanna Chestnut used to say, it's not our place to judge. And, well, you already paid an eye for... whatever."

Raymond reappeared from the bathroom, and Lorelei excused herself as he waved her towards the kitchen. The kitchen was as small and worn as the rest of the house, dingy curtains covering the cracked windows. "Did I just hear you offering a bed to him?" He whispered harshly.

"Well considering I just removed the man's eye, and I'm hardly a surgeon, it seemed prudent."

"Lei, I know you’re trusting to a fault, but that man tried to kill us!"

"And yet you brought him here," she shot back. "What do you expect me to do? He already made it clear he won't go to a hospital. Do you want me to kick him out onto the street? Or do you want me to call the cops and explain that I went ahead and removed his eye and gave him meds I stole from the hospital?"

Raymond gritted his teeth, running a hand through his short hair. On the one hand, he knew she was right. Morally there was nothing else they could do. But on the other hand, he hated to leave the woman he had come to consider as a sister to fend for herself. 

She didn't have any special abilities like Allison, after all. Since childhood, he had known her, the two of them throwing a ball over the picket fence that separated her yard and his grandmother's. Knew she would rather give someone her purse than even think about fighting.

"I-I'll stay here then," he decided, stomach twisting at the thought. He didn't want to, but he had no choice.

"What? No! Go back home to Allie, I can handle myself."

"...Allie went home with her family." He admitted quietly. "I'd feel weird being there without her anyways." 

"Family? I thought she didn't have any around here?" 

"She doesn't. Look, I'd rather not talk about it right now." Not with that man--Otto--likely listening in. Raymond glanced out to the living room, only slightly relieved to see him still rather slumped on the couch. "I'm gonna run home and get a change of clothes. Then I'll be back." 

"Fine," she relented with a sigh. "If you insist."

Raymond left the kitchen, pausing at the front door to look at Otto reclining on the old couch, still unnaturally pale with sweat beading despite the chill of the late November night. "Don't you dare hurt her." He swore, though he highly doubted the man had the energy after everything. Especially when it seemed like an effort just for Otto to lift his head and open his good eye.

_"Jag ska inte,"_ he said, his words either slurred from just his accent or the pain meds Lorelei had given him. Granted, Raymond doubted it would have made any difference. He knew a little Spanish, and that was not it.

"One wrong move and I'll finish the job my wife started," Raymond continued anyways, even though he highly doubted he could be so….ruthless.   
Either Otto didn't care or didn't think he would either as he allowed his head to slump back on the back of the couch, not bothering to designate him with a response. Raymond swore under his breath, praying desperately that everything was in one piece when he returned.

\--+--

Otto hadn't moved an inch when Lorelei finished washing her hands and putting things away. "Okay big man," she sighed, and Otto barely stirred in response. "Sleeping like that is not going to do you any good, so come on." She grabbed his lax hand and tugged slightly.

With a protesting grunt, Otto shifted and did his best to stand, leaning heavily on Lorelei as the room spun. Her head barely came to his shoulder, which made it awkward, but she held on with a fair amount of strength. 

"You are not allowed to fall, understand?" She said as he wavered. "That would knock those clots loose, and I doubt you have much more blood to lose."   
He grunted in agreement (or she assumed) before taking a hesitant step. Then another, and slowly the paired shuffled towards the small bedroom adjacent to the living room. "Besides," she continued mainly to break the silence. "I doubt I'd be able to lift you up off the floor."

A small smile graced her lips as he gave a huff of what she took as laughter. Her smile remained as she helped him ease into the small twin-sized bed, kneeling down as soon as he was settled to pull off the thick leather boots, ignoring his blatant stare as she quickly undid the thin strings with practiced efficiency. 

Habits were hard to kill, after all. 

"Swing your legs over, and get some rest," she commanded as she stood. "I'll allow another dose of the stinger pills, but then it's plain old Tylenol for you."  
He nodded as he collapsed back on the bed which looked even tinier with his more substantial frame laying on it. Lorelei didn't like how pale he was, or the sweat beading on his forehead. Out of habit she brushed the pale blonde hair checking for a temp and gave a sigh of relief when she found none.

Yet, at least.

\--+--

Raymond half expected a blood bath to be waiting for him when he returned. Except there was only the small blood stains Lorelei was scrubbing on the splintered wood floor, Otto nowhere to be seen.

"Did he leave?" He asked hopefully, but the dark look he received answered otherwise. 

"He's resting in my spare room," she still answered, gesturing to the partially closed door with the bristle brush. "So shush." 

Raymond groaned as he sat on the hardwood chair closest to the woman. "You brought him to me, I'm going to take care of him."

"I have a moral dilemma, okay?" He sighed. "I am allowed to have conflicted feelings about saving the life of the man who tried to kill me and my wife."

"Why didn't you call the cops, Ray?" She asked, giving up on the spot and resting on her heels to look at him. “Why didn’t you force him to a hospital or something? Why bring him here?” 

"Yes, Lei," he leaned forwards, arms resting on his knees. "I'm going to call the cops, and tell them what? That I have a vacuum salesman I thought was dead laying rolled up in my best rug with obvious bruises around his neck and missing an eye because my wife stabbed him? How is it going to look with a black man bringing a man like him into a hospital? Especially when that man is me?"

"Why don't you tell me exactly what happened?" She shifted to sit on the couch, and once he had her full attention, Raymond obliged. The craziness of seeing a cop just turn away after a simple whispered command from his wife. Learning of her secret power. Meeting Allison's rather startling brothers. Not just their personalities, but their ethnicities. 

Learning his wife, his perfect wife of an entire year, was from a lot farther than he could imagine. He could see the doubt and concern in Lorelei's face, but her lips stayed pressed together and she listened without a word as he continued his story. Even after he admitted the truly insane moment of yet another brother in law appearing in a flash of light, citing more time travel, and took his wife away. Forever.

"And that's when I brought him to your doorstep," he finished, leaning back in the chair and waited. 

Lorelei pressed her lips together in thought before giving in and asking the question pressing to the forefront: "Having you been dropping acid?"

"Lei!" He protested, jumping to his feet though mentally, he had tried to prepare for this kind of reaction. “Are you seriously asking me that?” 

"What else am I supposed to think?! Time travel? Superpowers? It sounds like science fiction!"

"This is exactly why I couldn't go to the police. Because if my own sister wouldn't believe me, there is no way they would. Lei," he walked over to the couch and sat next to her, drawing her hands into his. "You are the sister of my heart. Do you really think I could ever lie to you? Or take drugs? To ruin my people's reputation like that?"

She looked at where their hands met, her fair skin even paler in comparison with his. Nana Chestnut always called them siblings of heart, because they always understood each other. They nearly always agreed. She knew his motivations and passions as if they were her own, and vice versa.

And no, she couldn't see him lying to her. Or willingly do anything that could be used against the equal rights movement. 

She looked up and studied his face. The worst bit was: he didn't look like someone hallucinating or having any kind of psychotic break. He seemed somehow as calm and collected as always. 

"...shit."

\--+--

Otto woke with a gasp, the fear from his nightmare chasing him as his hands shot to his neck, assuring he was free to gasp for air. He was already sitting on the edge of the bed before his mind fully woke up; the previous day’s events slowly untangling from the nightmare.

Not that there was much difference. 

His throat ached and burned, but it was nothing compared to his eye, or rather its remains. It was disorienting, having half of his sight gone as he studied the small room barely big enough for the bed and a chest of drawers. Early morning light streamed through threadbare curtains, allowing him to see the glass of water and the white pills sitting next to them. 

Part of him wanted to forgo medication. He had trained nearly his whole life to withstand pain. To push it down and compartmentalize it until it was merely an annoyance. 

But he also never had his eye removed either. And he had to admit whatever the woman gave him the night before had dulled his mind enough to temporarily forget feeling like his heart had been ripped from his chest. 

It wasn't Axel. He reminded himself as he carefully stood, the room spinning as he shakily took the few steps to the chest of drawers, leaning on it as he popped the medication into his mouth and drank the lukewarm water. 

They had known the woman had powers. That's why they had tried to neutralize her as quickly as possible. But they had failed. Again. Their near-perfect streak shattered by this family of oddities. 

But where did Axel go? Why had he woken up at the mercy of the woman's husband? Had his brother honestly thought him dead? And just left him? 

Axel was still alive, right? The thought made his stomach turn as much as the medications and the dizziness did as he clenched his fist.

No, his brother had to be alive. Axel was the best of them. Their older brother (by five minutes to Otto, but even as an adult, Axel had lorded it over him). Axel had to have survived. 

He couldn't be the only one left. He had to find his brother. 

The thought gave him purpose as he pushed off from the dresser and forced his legs to work as he stumbled out of the small room into the living quarters of the house. His focus was on the front door and the light that was streaming through the small window panes. He had to leave. He had to find Axel. 

Why was the world swaying so much? 

"Woah! Hey, no!" He stumbled as his foot met a thick rug and nearly toppled over if it wasn't for the small woman from the night before, (Lori? Lee? Some odd English name) coming to help him regain his balance. "C'mon on buddy, you need to sit your ass down before you fall down."

It bruised his ego how easily she manipulated him to the nearest chair, helping him ease down into it before disappearing once more. He could only close his eyes, trying to will his heart to stop pounding and his to stop lungs burning from the short walk. 

He felt as weak as a newborn kitten. How was he supposed to do anything like this?

"Here, have some tea." A cold glass was placed in his hand, though her hand hesitated to release it until she was sure he wouldn't drop it. "You lost a lot of blood, my friend. I'm surprised you got this far without passing out." 

The drink was cold and sweet, oddly helping both his stomach as well as his head settle. "Thirsty, were we?" She teased as he finished the glass, still knelt by his side. Muddied green eyes smiled up at him softly, the same ones he remembered hazily staring into last night. 

Except then they hadn't been so cheerful. Just… determined. 

Her smile fell as he continued to stare down at her, and she reached up to brush his forehead with her wrist. "No fever, which is good," she muttered after a moment. "How are you feeling?" 

He wasn't even sure if there were words for how he was feeling, let alone what the English equivalent was. The ache of his throat. The burning pain of his eye. The infuriating absence of half his vision. 

The emotional pain in his chest that threatened to consume him.

"Well, I take it that it's not pleasant by the look on your face," she guessed as he stayed silent. "Did you take those pills I left you?"

He gave a slight nod to that, which seemed to appease her. "Good, though they could be hard on the stomach. How about I whip up a light breakfast? We can see how long it takes Mr. Overprotective there to wake up." 

He had to turn to look where she gestured, seeing Allison's husband asleep on the small cramped couch, an old quilt draped over him.   
She stood up and offered her hand, "You want to come with me to the kitchen? I have a fresh pot of coffee just made, if you're a coffee drinker. Also, not easy on the stomach, but the Lord smite me if I ever deny anyone coffee." 

He hesitated for a moment before accepting, and it was embarrassing to have help to stand and then need to lean on her smaller frame as she helped him across to the kitchen. By the time she helped him to the small kitchen table, he felt weak and shaky and all but collapsed into the chair. 

It wasn't long before she had a mug of steaming coffee set before him and a dish each of sugar and creamer. The woman continued to talk cheerfully as she busied herself with breakfast, he only partially paid attention. 

At least the coffee was strong.


	3. Chapter Three

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The last of the set up chapters!

Otto had spent most of his adult life working for the commission. A few time jumps to different eras and decades, but mainly staying somewhere in the 1960s since it seemed the more precarious times. Nuclear war liked to develop at the drop of a pin, and even the most well-meaning change could spell Armageddon thanks to trigger-happy Americans and Russians. 

(Though a few times it was the UK and France. And once China, which the rest of the world hadn't realized had nuclear weapons until it was too late.)   
But no matter where or when he was, he was with his brothers. Oscar might have mingled with the civilian population once in a while, but he, like Axel, either had other responsibilities or would rather relax at their temporary home than deal with the locals. 

He wasn't used to civilians and their quiet, dull lives. Granted, Lorelei often had her radio on to break the silence if she were home, and the grainy black and white TV was usually turned to the news. (She also had a habit of chattering while changing the dressings on his eye every morning and every night. Even if half the time her southern drawl made her words hard to understand, her tone and lit were pleasing to listen to.) 

It was still dull, with nothing but the pain to distract him from his thoughts. Losing Oscar had been hard enough, the wound still fresh on his heart. Even now, he expected his younger brother to try and ambush him just to get a reaction out of him. Or hear him trying and failing to sing to the more upbeat music on the radio, stumbling over the English words. 

Then he lost Axel; his last memory of his older brother being of his hands around his neck and Axel's face twisted in both rage and grief of not controlling his actions. Otto found himself praying to some unknown power that Axel was out there, somewhere, carrying on. 

Otto feared if their position had been reversed, he wouldn't be strong enough. He struggled as it was, but the thought of finding Axel gave him strength. Believing his brother was out there gave him the motivation to keep trying to regain his strength.   
And startling Lorelei was becoming decent amusement as well.

_"Why are you doing pushups?! Shit, your eye is bleeding again!"_ (It often did at inconvenient times, leading to her fretting like a mother hen. She wouldn't rest until he allowed her to fuss to her heart's content. )

_"Why are all my kitchen knives impaled in the garage wall?"_ (Relearning to aim with just one eye was becoming a chore. And he gave in to the need to take a break just as she returned from work. She quickly forgot about the knives as soon as she saw he was bleeding, again, and about five seconds from passing out.) 

_"Jesus Mary and Joesph, I swear Otto, you may not be a serial killer, but you definitely have a screw or two loose!"_ (He swore she hadn't dusted the cobwebs from her ceiling in decades, but considering how small she was compared to him, he couldn't wholly blame her. To his amusement, she tried to steal the feather duster he had found, jumping pathetically to try and reach it as he held it out of reach. It reminded him of Oscar, and then it wasn't quite as amusing.) 

It wasn't that he was getting soft towards her; it was simply that he had a sense of honor. The reverse of an eye for an eye; she had been kind insane enough to help him. The lengths she went to and fussing over him as if she genuinely cared, made him feel indebted to her. He could tell Raymond didn't trust him, giving him a dark look when he visited every day. 

But he couldn't harm her. He had no reason to (and it certainly wasn't because she tried so hard to show him kindness. Like when she tenderly brushed his hair away from his forehead when she feared a fever. Being so careful during dressing changes, her voice soft and soothing, her touch gentle. She quickly picked up on his body language and did her best to distract him when his thoughts got dark.) 

It was nearly two weeks before he was feeling well enough to think about leaving seriously. Two weeks no sign of Axel. He kept an eye on the news for anything bearing his brother's mark, but there was nothing—no trail for him to follow, making him antsy. 

The longer he stayed, the farther Axel was. (He refused to believe there was any other reason. Axel was out there. Somewhere.)   
It felt a bit wrong to leave when Lorelei was at work with nothing more than a note saying thank you on the kitchen counter and assuring the small room was in perfect condition (or as best as could be, considering the old worn everything.)

It took him a while to find the small cat house, feeling like it was halfway across the suburb of south Dallas (or it could have been that he wasn't quite up to strength just yet.) The ragged curtains were still drawn shut; a few of the cats lounging in the windows enjoying the sun while others relaxed on the small steps thanks to the little cat door Oscar had crudely cut shortly after they had 'moved in.'

The cats welcomed him with plaintive meows, rubbing and threading through his legs. The fact the place smelled like an unclean catbox was enough to confirm Axel was no longer using it as a base. The large bag of dry cat food was spilled across the kitchen and living room, yet the cats were far more interested in him as he searched the small house for any sign of Axel. 

But every trace of their residence had been cleaned away per protocol, with not even the vaguest of hints where Axel's next destination was.

Except, for some reason, his and Oscar's bags were still stuffed in the hallway closet, packed and ready for a quick retreat, just as they had left it. The ache in Otto's chest strengthened at seeing his little brother's pack buried beneath his, the white and black milkman hat sticking out from where Oscar had quickly stuffed it before that last mission. 

Otto could still remember chastening him to take better care of it if he honestly wanted to keep it, and Oscar had groaned he would fold it correctly when they got back. 

Except his little brother didn't return with them that day. 

Only the cats were witness to him, pulling the hat out and falling to his knees as he clutched it to his chest, biting his tongue to trap the scream of agony from escaping.

\--+--

Lorelei supposed she shouldn't be too surprised when she returned to an empty house. She had noticed a restless shift in Otto for the last few days. The kind she had seen before in others that had stayed with her to recuperate before they too moved on.

At least he was kind enough to tidy up after himself (was it embarrassing that he was a better housekeeper than her?) And he had even left a piece of paper saying thank you that she pinned to her fridge. 

She knew Raymond would be relieved when he found out he had left. Even though Otto proved he wasn't about to hurt either of them, her soul brother was about as distrustful as could be when it came to him (granted it was somewhat earned.)

But she was going to miss him and his odd antics. Like how he had sat at the kitchen table, all of her knives laid out before him along with an old whetstone he had found somewhere in her junk drawer, and spend probably at least a few hours just sharpening the dulled blades. (Generally, after he used them for target practice.) His determination to find some odd house chore she had slacked on and finish it without so much as a word. 

He had been silent, but it wasn't the oppressive silence like her father's had been, where she knew he was boiling about something (like her existence). Sure, once in a while, it would be broody or antagonistic when Raymond visited, or something reminded him of something dark in his frankly mysterious past. But otherwise, it had been amicable. 

Even when she was chatty out of nerves or after a particularly stressful day, he hadn't seemed annoyed. Instead, she sometimes would catch a faint smile as she prattled on. Or even a light huff of laughter when she made a joke, and he shook his head slightly because her jokes were usually terrible puns. 

"Oh, I'm an old biddy," she sighed to her comatose patient the next day, setting up another saline flush along with the IV antibiotics. "Here, I keep telling everyone that I'm fine being by myself, yet here I am getting attached to an absolute stranger. I should just get some cats, huh?"

The man was silent, which she expected. The doctors had just been in to check the healing stump of where his leg had been. Which meant the nurse had dosed him with plenty of pain meds just an hour before. Partially to help negate the pain from the procedure itself, but also so he wouldn't try to grab the nearest person as a hostage. 

That encounter still left many of the other nurses hesitant to enter the room. It had been the day after the John Doe had been brought in the emergency room, found by a couple of hunters just outside of town with a traumatic amputation of his left lower leg.

One minute he had been asleep (or assumed) as the doctors discussed treatment plans, and the next, he had jumped up, grabbed one of the nurses, and had a ballpoint pen pressed against her throat while swearing something in an odd language as everyone scrambled.   
What was with white-haired men and being violent? Granted, she had never seen Otto like she had the John Doe, his pale blue eyes wild with both rage and pain. 

Which was why restraints were now strapped to the remaining three limbs. The straps rattled against the metal sidebars as John Doe stirred, making Lorelei pause. His young face was twisted into a grimace, and she moved to brush his forehead out of instinct.

" _Bror_?" He mumbled, making her stomach twist in guilt. She didn't think her rambling would wake him.

"Shh, it's okay, hun. Just get some rest," She smoothed his messy white hair, smiling as he relaxed back into sleep. 

"Lorelei, you know you're crazy, right?" One of her fellow nurses asked as she slipped from the secured room and into the nearby nurses' station, "Going into that room by yourself. You saw what he did to Mary Lou!"

"Well, how would you feel waking up without a leg and a bunch of people hovering over you, talking in a different language," she shot back defensively as she grabbed John Doe's chart. 

" _Not_ homicidal," her coworker responded, working on her own chart notes. "I mean, I'd scream for sure, but I doubt I'd be able to move the way he did. Hell, I doubt I'd ever been that quick."

\---+---

Lorelei supposed she shouldn't have been happy to see Otto sitting on the front steps of her home the next evening. She had a crappy day, her feet were killing her, and she was planning on just crashing in her bed. Yet seeing him on the cement step, two large backpacks sitting on the dilapidated porch, made the end of her day a little better.

He looked up, the bandage still wrapped around half of his face, but she was pleased not to notice any blood staining the gauze. She wasn't so happy to see the melancholy expression on his face.

She took a seat on the step next to him, feeling warmth radiate him to chase off the chilly December air. She wasn't brave enough to look at him, and instead plucked a piece of dead grass from the lawn. "Don't tell Ray, but you make a decent house guest. Not many men clean up after themselves, let alone fight me about dustin' or sweeping them cobwebs out." 

She peeked a glance after a pause and felt relief to see a faint smile on his face as he focused on the dusk colored sky. "I won't ask what you've been up to, as long as it ain't gonna be bringing any police around here." 

"No," he answered her joking comment gravely. 

"Kay, good." She tore at the blade of grass some more. "So... Are you looking for a place to stay, or are you just here to say bye for good?"

This time he did meet her gaze. His dark eye looked haunted, and she could see the telltale marks of crying by the red rims and puffiness of his lids. Her fingers ached to reach out and try to soothe the crease around his good eye, to bring some sort of comfort, so she shifted to sit on her hand instead, hoping he would think her fingertips were cold. "Because like I said, you're a nice house guest. You do your own share of the chores, and you can stay as long as you like. Just no more using my good steak knives as darts, you got me?"

"Yes," he answered solemnly, making her heart jump. "...Do you like cats?" 

His question surprised her for a moment before she smiled. "Yeah, I do. I was just telling my patient that I should get a few."

He nodded his head without elaborating further, though she swore there was a thoughtful expression on his face as he watched the last glimmer of the sun fade away.   
The silence this time was broken by her stomach growling, earning an amused glance from Otto as she blushed. "Right. Well, I'm hungry,' she hurriedly jumped up and offered her hand to him. "Shall we?" 

He accepted her hand, the callouses firm against her skin. It still surprised her how tall he towered over her. "Let's see; I have fish sticks or hot dogs. It's up to you…."

\---+---

Lorelei woke the next morning to a blank and white angular-face cat kneading her pillow; its purr a deep growl. As soon as the cat realized she was awake, it butted its head against her as a greeting, its purr becoming louder.

"Where did you come from?" She asked as she sat up, allowing him to crawl into her lap. The cat, of course, didn't answer but continued to knead her lap. She picked up the cat and descended the stairs, following the smell of sausage and the quiet mewl of other cats. A group of them were sitting expectantly at Otto's feet, jumping when he would toss a piece of an egg at them. All of them boney and looking as if he had found them wandering the streets. 

"Dare I ask?" She asked, shifting the cat to protect her modesty as he glanced over at her. She didn't miss the quick once-over before he shrugged and returned towards breakfast.

"You said you liked cats." 

Living with him was going to be fun, Lorelei decided as she allowed the cat down to join its brethren at his feet and instead shuffled towards the fridge. "True. I did say that." She just didn't expect so many. They were all weaving around him, eager for a treat, which made it hard to count, but she swore there were at least a dozen. "So… do they have names?"

" _Bebis._ " 

She waited for him to elaborate and frowned when he didn't. "Are you saying they are babies, or that they are all named Bebis?"

"Both," he answered, shooting her a quick half-smile as he flicked another piece of an egg at them. 

"Oh no, that isn't going to work. I mean, I fully agree they're babies, but they need their own names." She busied herself with setting up the kettle for coffee, trying not to think how easy it was moving around each other, or how much happier she felt compared to the last two days. 

It was the cats; she decided as one jumped up on the counter to pester her. Definitely the cats. She blushed when she noticed Otto watching her out of the corner of her vision as she baby-talked to the small tabby that looked like it hadn't eaten in weeks. 

Just the cats.


	4. Four

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> just a domestic chapter. Character and relationship building.

Otto didn't have anywhere to go anywhere, but even if he did, Otto questioned if he would. Not unless he had his family back.  
He missed his brothers and thought of them constantly. Oscar would be giving him such a hard time over everything, from struggling to adapt to having just one eye to how fond he was of his new housemate. There were times first thing when he woke to the subtle smells of breakfast that his hazy mind thought Axel was downstairs cooking. Then Lorelei would chasten a cat and reality would crash down on him.

But for the first time since his childhood, he felt protective of someone outside his family. He wasn't used to it, especially since she was far more outgoing than his brothers. 

He had gone most of his life, even before The Commission, not caring much about anyone outside his family. All that mattered was family, the rest of the world was not his problem.

Lorelei seemed to think the exact opposite. People drifted to her house for medical advice or just to gossip. Raymond was far from the only person who dropped by just for a cup of coffee on her days off to just catch up. Despite his uninterest in the gossip, he found himself lingering nearby out of both habit and paranoia. 

Such as the Friday night when the quiet evening was interrupted by pounding on the front door again. Soon the living room was full with three teenage boys and two girls; the girls were huddled together on the couch, their makeup running lightly from tears while two of the boys were barely containing their pent-up energy as they paced the living room. The third was sitting backward in the straight-back hardwood chair as Lorelei carefully stitched up the knife wound to his back. (Too shallow to do any damage, Otto mentally scoffed at whoever attacked him. The wound still healing on his leg from Oscar was deeper.)

"We need to go find those punks," one of the two boys finally broke the tense silence. "I'm sick and tired of them damn white boys thinking they can do whatever they please. No offense," he tacked on as Otto shifted from his place leaning in the doorway to the kitchen, feeling on guard with this many people in ~~their~~ the house. Especially when the younger men seemed itching for a fight.

Otto just stared at the young boy. The teen quickly looked away, scratching his head as he turned away and drifted back towards his friends. No. There was no way the child would have the strength or guts to act out revenge. His threats were as empty as the food dish once Poyo finished. 

"The hell you are," Lorelei apparently agreed as she finished the knot and snipped the string free. "You are all going to go home and stay there. And if you see that gang of punks again, you're going to turn the other way and leave."

"You want us to run away?!" The second boy protested, his eye swelling shut from the black eye since he kept taking the frozen bag of peas away from his face. "They'll really have no respect for us if we do that!"

"If you three get in a fight," she countered as she dabbed aeay the blood with plenty of hydrogen peroxide, not even bothering to look up, "no matter who started it, and no matter who ended it, you three will be painted as the villains. And it won't help the Movement any either," she continued as the boy opened his mouth to protest, glancing up with a string look. "Sometimes, you have to lose a battle to win a war." 

The teen ground his teeth but kept silent as Lorelei finished her bandage. "Now all of you, go home. Ask your parents for some aspirin, and then get some sleep. Got it?"

Otto was fooled into thinking it would settle back to normalcy for a short moment after the teens shuffled out the door until Lorelei’s fist slammed on the doorframe as soon as it was closed. "I am going to find those damn brats and give them a piece of my mind!" Lorelei seethed as she glared at the old oak. "Stabbing a boy with his back turned! What kind of yellow belly snake does that?"

The mood whiplash caught Otto by surprise. He tilted his head slightly as he watched her storm back to her workspace and angrily picking up the dirtied rags and instruments. "I'd show those brats. I want to say I'd drag them home by their ears and tell their mothers what they did, but knowing this damned town, they'd probably see nothing wrong with it!"

Otto was rather intrigued by the flare of rage; it was his first time seeing Lorelei actually angry. It was rather cute seeing the snarl on her lips as she continued to mutter to herself, almost as if she had forgotten he was there. 

After a moment, he crossed the room and took the bundle of bloodied rags from her silently. The faint blush on her face as she quietly thanked him proved he had guessed right. She had forgotten he had been watching. 

"...why do people hate each other like that?" She whispered as they worked together to handwash the rags in the kitchen sink a few minutes later. "I never understood why skin color made any difference. Nana Chestnut and her family were so much better than my real kin growing up. But people just hate on them without ever even trying to figure out what kind of person they are."

Otto was silent, not sure if there was a right answer, or if she was even looking for one. And to be honest, he didn't understand it either. He had seen it through the years, but had ignored it as another part of the civilian life he would never understand. A part he had no interest in understanding. "I could hunt them down?" He offered quietly, though he highly doubted that's what she really wanted. 

Sure enough, the dubious expression on her face confirmed his thoughts. All that anger, but she was far too soft to act against another. Or even have someone else do it for her. 

~~He tried not to think of when he was willing to do something for someone else when there was no benefit for him. Because if she had said yes, his target wouldn't see the next sunrise.~~

The frown smoothed away into a slight smile as she shook her head. With her hands covered in red-stained suds, she rested her head against his arm. "...no. But thank you for listening to me crab." 

He was silent, but enjoyed the warmth that soaked through his shirt from the contact. Enjoyed the warmth that bloomed in his chest as she smiled up at him.

\--+--

"I have so many concerns," Raymond commented the next time he came over and saw not only the cats happily making themselves at home, but Otto who was once more practicing his aim on the garage, though this time with small hatchets which she wasn't sure where he had found.

"Hey, you were always worried about me living by myself," Lorelei replied as she busied herself with pouring some tea, hoping to drag Raymond away from the kitchen window where he watched Otto. (Partially so she wouldn't be caught ogling the man, stripped to just a simple cotton shirt despite the early December afternoon, sweat sticking to his muscles….) 

Raymond opened his mouth, closed it, sighed and ruffled his short hair as he turned and joined her at the kitchen table. "I was thinking more along the lines of a guard dog, Lei. Or maybe an actual husband. Not a dozen cats and a would-be murderer."

"I think I prefer Otto." She grinned at his dark look. "Look, I get you started on the wrong foot…"

" _Attempted murder_ is hardly the wrong foot!"

"But he's a decent guy, I'm telling you," she continued as if she didn't hear him. "He cleans and does a better job than me. How many men you know are willing to split housework?"

"That's what you're focusing on?" He spluttered while gesturing towards the back yard. "Not him throwing hatchets at your garage? Or the fact he barely speaks English? Are you just going to support him?" 

"Just because he's quiet doesn't mean he can't speak our language," she retorted, her eyes narrowing. "And that garage is one good storm away from being a pile of tinder anyways, and it's working on the hand-eye coordination after losing half his vision!" 

Raymond gritted his teeth, forcing himself to take a breath. Getting in a shouting match was not good for either of them. "Look. I just worry about you. Can you blame me for not trusting him? After what he did to Allie and me?" 

The reminder struck her hard. Otto was someone entirely different for her than who Raymond saw. And she couldn't exactly blame him for his feelings of mistrust and suspicion. Yet, at the same time, it was getting harder and harder for her to see Otto as the violent man Ray saw. Not when she's seen him tugging yarn around for the cats to play with. Or relaxing on the couch with a cat curled on his chest and another on his stomach. Or splitting the clean up after their meal. 

Or seen him through the cracked door of his room, holding that milkman hat and looking so absolutely heartbroken. Hearing him waking up from a dead sleep with a shout of fear and grief.  
"There's more to him than that," she finally said quietly, looking away. 

"But it's still a part of him. Do you even know anything about his past? Why did he and his brother attack us? Where is he even from? Why is he staying with you?" 

She stayed silent, eyes focused on her glass of tea. She didn't. She pointedly didn't ask and tried not to wonder. 

Raymond sighed as he stood, the chair scratching against the hardwood floor. "I'll be the first to admit that there was a lot to Allie I didn't know. A lot of questions I should've asked but didn't. I wanted to be happy, so I turned a blind eye. And it cost me a lot more than I expected. Are you willing to pay that same price?" 

Silence hung in the air once more as she refused to lift her gaze from the table. Raymond sighed again. "Look, I know you're a grown woman, and you want to live your own life, but just… think about it, okay?"

She nodded her head, still unable to look up even as he left, the door sticking as it shut behind him, making the whole house rattle as he forced it close. Only then did she move, standing and wrapping her arms around her. For some reason, her feet lead her to the back door, opening it with a hard pull and stepping out into the chilly air. The steady thunk of a blade against wood was oddly soothing as she settled on the cement step, Raymond's words swirling in her mind. 

Who was Otto? Was that even his actual name? What was he doing in Dallas? What was he doing with her? Had she been so lonely that she had just accepted it? 

Where did he get the cats from? 

She was broken from her thoughts as Otto's well-worn leather boots appeared in her vision. She looked up, meeting his silent but understanding gaze. She rubbed her eyes, knowing it looked like she was on the verge of crying. "Sorry, did I break your concentration?" 

He glanced at the improvised target before back to her and offered a hand. She frowned slightly but accepted it, unsurprised about how easily he pulled her to her feet, and more surprised that he led her to where he had the six hatchets laying on an old stump. Wordlessly, he positioned her in the marks in the dead grass made by his boots and put one of the hatchets in her hand. 

"What? You're kidding me, right?" She gave a slight disbelieving laugh as he stepped back. "I-I'm not; I can't…"

"Try," he said as she trailed off weakly. She looked down at the tool in her hand; the wood handle still warm from his grasp, the blade polished and sharpened to a fine point (just like every knife in the house now). She looked back at him, a little lost, but he just tilted his head toward the garage. 

"This is such a bad idea," she muttered before mimicking a baseball player's stance and giving her best. Which made it maybe halfway before falling into the grass, the flat edge of the blade against the ground.

"See, I told you…" she trailed off as he picked up the next one and stepped towards her. He placed it in her hand before silently adjusting her stance. She was pretty sure her face was red as he guided her hips and legs before standing behind her and covering her hands with his. 

"Aim like this," he spoke softly, positioning her arm. "Feel how the weapon balances in your hand. Focus it on finding its mark. Inhale," he commanded as he pulled her arm back, and she couldn't help but obey before he gently mimicked a pitch. Her heart was pounding in her chest, and she was sure her face was red. She had never heard him talk so much, and hadn't quite realized how deep or smooth his voice was until he was all but murmuring in her ear. "And exhale. Now try." 

She missed his warmth as soon as he stepped away and automatically looked back at him. He simply gestured towards the garage wall. Lorelei turned back, trying to focus and remember his words and less of his warmth and gentleness. 

This time, the blade stuck in the ground less than a foot from the garage's foundation. Seeing the metal buried in the grass sent a thrill of pride as she grinned….

And Otto gave her another hatchet.

\---+---

The sun had set below the horizon by the time Otto allowed her to quit. Her arms were sore, and her fingers stiff as she fell back on the cement step, rolling her shoulders tenderly as he settled beside her.

But a single hatchet was buried in the faded white paint wood panel. She hadn't felt that much pride in a long time as when she finally made her mark. Or when Otto gave her a proud smile and clapped her on the shoulder.

"Better?" 

"Sorta," she admitted truthfully, though now her body was at rest, her mind started its questions once more. "Can I...Can I ask you a question?"

She hesitantly met his good eye. No matter what they were doing, she inevitably ended up on his good side. Maybe she did it unconsciously Or maybe he planned it that way. Maybe he didn't trust her enough to leave her in his blind spot. 

There was doubt in his expression, but he shrugged slightly anyways. "Were you...were you really trying to kill Ray and Allie?"

His look quickly darkened, the warmth in his expression disappearing as he looked away from her. "...Yes." 

Even though she knew the answer, it still felt like a sucker-punch to her gut. "Why?"

"It was our job," he answered simply. 

Job? "...Do you still plan on killing them?" She whispered after. A long moment. "Are you...are you just here to try again?" Was she just a pawn? Was she being played like a fiddle after all? 

"No." He answered, his hand finding hers as it clutched at her knee, carefully forcing it open so he could thread his fingers with hers. "I...have no one." He admitted, and this time he was the one unable to meet her gaze but kept his eye focused on their joined hands. "My brothers are gone. But if you want me to leave, I will."

There were tears in her eyes when he did finally look up at her, the hurt she had seen shadows of once more open and bared for her to see. 

"Please don't. Don't leave me." She said, echoing the expression written so plainly on his face. "I don't have much. This place is a wreck. And I know we barely know each other, but…"

"I'll stay."

\---+---

Icy rain tapped on the window, the aged wood of the house occasional creaking from the chill, lulling him to a semi-sleep. Otherwise, the house was silent, with only the occasional whisper of sound as the cats padded in or out of his room. Not the tiny room on the first floor, but one of the ones upstairs.

It had taken a good couple of days for both of them to sort through the mess of the two spare bedrooms on the second floor, turning one into a proper bedroom and the other an organized storeroom. (Lorelei kept apologizing because of the mess, but he was more distracted by seeing her hair covered by a colorful kerchief, the stray strands sticking to her flushed face, that he barely heard her.) 

He slept better on the slightly larger bed. It felt less like a temporary room and something more permanent, though habits were hard to kick. He had his bag still packed with necessities and sitting underneath his bed. But he allowed himself to set the few pictures he had usually carefully packed away to sit on the nightstand in frames Lorelei had found for him. 

(No questions were asked when she saw the pictures of him and his brothers, though he could see the curiosity on her face. Someday he wanted to be able to talk to her about them. Share his memories of his family. But the pain was still too fresh, so he was thankful she respected his silence.) 

A sharp crack of thunder broke the silence, and the split-second flash of light had given him enough warning not to jump. 

It hadn't prepared him for the ear-splitting scream of terror. In one quick motion, he had grabbed the gun beneath his pillow and was running across the hall, breaking the door down to Lorelei's room, eye searching the darkness for an intruder. 

Instead, it was just her hunched in her bed, hands over her head as she flinched away from him; her hazel eyes widened with fear. 

Of him. 

"I'm sorry I'm sorry I'm sorry," she gasped as she shook. "I didn't--I didn't…"

He lowered his gun quickly, guilt turning his stomach. "Lorelei," he started, "I--"

"Otto?" She interrupted relaxing somewhat, the wild look leaving her eyes. "I-I thought…" another flash of light and a crack of thunder, and he watched her turn as stiff and panicked as deer in headlights before shaking herself out of it a moment later with a whimper. '"I'm sorry," she whispered as she turned back to him, "I didn't mean to wake you up." 

Otto hesitated before carefully entering, watching her for any signs of fear. Instead, she shifted in her bed to make room for him. The mattress sunk as he settled next to her, giving her room yet close enough to feel her warmth radiating into the cold room. 

She wasn't as timid as usual, scooting close enough to press against his side. He could feel her tremble as thunder cracked once more. "I am a grown-ass adult scared of thunder," she spat abysmally. "How pathetic is that?"

He was at a loss for what to do. Fear was not something familiar to him; not personally and he couldn't recall the last time he saw his brothers scared.

How did someone go about comforting another? If it was his brothers, he would have gone after whatever had dared to frighten them. 

Without thinking, he offered the automatic rifle he had brought. She stared at the gun before looking up at him with a quizzical expression. "...I don't think shooting anything is going to help."

"Wouldn't hurt," he countered and earned a slight smile and faint chuckle before she sank into his side. He allowed the gun to rest on the bed and wrapped his arm around her back, holding her to him. They were both quiet as the clock ticked on. Gradually a few of the cats strayed in, looking rather inqusitive. Everytime the thunder cracked and she flinched, his hold would tighten, his thumb rubbing circles on her arm.

"Who were you scared of?" He finally asked the question brewing in his mind. Who had she seen standing in the doorway that terrified her? Who had ingrained in her the need to apologize for screaming out in fear? 

Lorelei was silent, though a glance assured him that she understood what he meant. Her expression was drawn as she soothed Nala's thick orange coat as the kitten settled on her lap. "My dad," she finally answered. "He hated it whenever I woke him up. He's been dead for years now, and I still…." 

"Good." He said after she trailed off. 

"Good?"

He shrugged, "You'd get upset."

She stared at him before realization set in. To his astonishment, she snorted and chuckled. "Is it horrid of me if I said I'd choose you over him?" 

Otto felt something twist in his chest at the admission. Family to him was everything. It was nothing more than a hypothetical statement, but… for her to put him before her father meant a lot to him. 

She meant a lot to him. He thought back to the terror on her face, the sharp pain in his gut when he thought she was scared of him. He had thought most of that guilt and dread was behind him. Granted most of the ones he had killed were often less than innocent, but…. "Don't...ever be afraid of me." He said softly as he brushed a stray strand away from her face, carefully tucking it behind her ear. 

Her freckled cheeks turned pink as she smiled. "I don't think I could. I know you wouldn't hurt me." 

He had lost count of how many people he had killed. There was no way to total the number of bystanders that ended up as casualties because of him. A trail of blood followed him and his brothers wherever they went.

And yet….

His fingers traced the curve of her face, his gaze drawn to her lips as they shifted from a smile to being slightly parted. His nose brushed hers as he leaned down, his eye closing before…

A cold water droplet fell right on his nose.

Both of them jumped back, the moment broken. Lorelei cursed another drop of water fell on her forehead before jumping to her feet and dashing off for a bucket, curses following her down the stairs. Otto glared up at the ceiling where the roof was leaking. 

If that wasn't Oscar haunting him, he would eat his boot.

\--+--

Back in the hospital, John Doe sneezed. 


	5. Five

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Fluff. Warning for Racial slurs and other foul language.

Living with Otto had taught Lorelei not to be surprised when she came home to something unusual. But seeing him up on the roof tossing tiles down as he was _reshingling the damn roof_ proved that he still was able to stun her. Granted, it was in desperate need of repair but….

Why?

How?

_Why?!_

"Lorelei!" Her neighbor Nichole hissed, balancing her baby on her hip. Lorelei slowly stepped over to the white picket fence, her eyes never leaving Otto. (Safety reasons. Not because the man was shirtless and glistening in the evening light, her mind recalling that near kiss from the night before.)

"Where in heaven did you find him?" Nicole whispered as if Otto could hear them from on top of the roof. "I mean, my Joseph is a good man and all, but I don't think I could ever convince him to help out like that."

"He kinda...just showed up?" She said, unsure of how much Raymond had told his cousin. "It's complicated." 

There was a glint in her eye as Nichole smiled slyly. "Shirtless in December, I bet he's a real furnace in bed." 

Lorelei turned beet red at the implication. "W-what? No! It's not like that!"

Nichole gave her an incredulous look. "Girl, why not? I know you're trying out for sainthood like that cousin of mine, but even saints sin once in a while."  
Lorelei covered her face with a groan, trying desperately not to allow her mind to wander down that path. She couldn't even claim he was her patient anymore with the way everything was healing. And yeah, probably to any outsider it probably would look rather incriminating.

And last night...she hadn't been adverse to him sitting next to her as she shook herself out of a nightmare. Or how he comforted her with his strong arm wrapped around her, pulling her close. And he _was_ a furnace. His warmth had done more than just chase away the cold. It had drawn her in, helping her to relax into him while also stirring something inside as he leaned towards her. 

She could still remember catching a whiff of his soap as she waited for their lips to touch. Whatever it was, it hadn't been the ivory bar she had sitting in the shower.  
"Never did think I'd see the day I'd enjoy watching a white man work," Nichole continued almost to herself as she shifted the baby to her other hip. "You think once he's done you could convince him to help me out? I'm sure I got a few things he could handle." 

"Nichole!" 

She laughed, jostling her baby. "Right. I'll be a good neighbor and leave you to your eye candy. Enjoy, my dear!" She winked before turning and returning to her home, leaving Lorelei still flushed with rather indecent thoughts. 

She peeked up at the roof, feeling her stomach twist. She had turned down all sorts of suitors through the years. The idea of marriage had left a bad taste in her mouth. Obedient to husband, staying home, popping out kids, and doing nothing but housework. That was not the life she wanted. 

Yet...she couldn't see Otto in that kind arrangement. He treated her as an equal. Otto hadn’t said one word about her working, lack of a husband and kids, or even her abysmal homemaker skills. 

And there she went, allowing her thoughts to wander off. Other than last night, he never expressed any romantic or...other kind of interest in her, which was fine. Completely fine. 

Maybe she wished he'd drop a hint or two, but he respected her, so she needed to do the same. If he wasn't really interested in her, and last night was just a fluke, then that was fine. 

Even if it made her chest ache, it was fine.

Which probably meant she needed to stop watching his muscles flex beneath his pale skin as he worked, hair askew from wind and sweat. But….  
They were really good muscles. She hadn't seen that kind of definition outside of her medical textbooks. She'd have no trouble naming the muscles of his back and arm, fingertips skimming over the muscle groups. She could probably do the same with his chest and abs….

Otto paused, shifting to look down at her. "Having fun up there?" She squeaked, hoping he hadn't realized what she was doing. He shrugged, running a hand through his hair to get it out of his face. "Good!” she chirped again with a bit of oddness to her voice. “Well, I'll, um, I'll go start supper then! Be careful up there!"

\--+--

Otto watched, a faint smile on his face as Lorelei disappeared from view. He had caught her staring, and even with one eye it was easy to tell the blush on her face. It made him feel rather proud as he returned to his work, trying not to reflect exactly _why_ her attention brought him satisfaction.

He pulled a nail from between his teeth but paused at a far too familiar flash of blue light from below. His hand grasped the hammer out habit as he looked over the edge once again. Not the navy blue suit of a commission assassin, but a woman dressed in the light blue of an office worker. ~~(He wasn't disappointed by the lack of white hair. It didn't rip open the barely scabbed-over wounds on his heart. It was fine. He was fine.)~~

The woman blocked out the sun with her hand as she looked up. "Agent Otto?"

Otto turned back and pounded the nail instead, ignoring the woman even as she called his name for a second and third time. 

He wasn't an agent. Not any more. That part of his life was over ~~(just as Oscar's life was over, and how Axel had left him behind, knowingly or not.)~~  
There was a faint grumble before the ladder shook slightly. He closed his eye in defeat briefly before resuming his work. Maybe he could at least get done with this row as she struggled with the rickety thing. 

"Agent Otto!" She huffed as she finally reached the top nearly a full minute later. "My name is…."

"Don't care," he interrupted. He could see her purse her lips slightly in annoyance. 

"...The Commission recognizes the hardship you have gone through," she continued after a moment, making him miss his mark, the nail bent instead driven into the rafter below, causing him to snarl as he pulled it out. "And the current Director was hesitant to ask for help, however right now we are in desperate straits. Our current field agents are stretched thin, and we need every skilled individual we can acquire." 

"No."

"No?" she spluttered. "You and your brothers have halted several catastrophic anomalies. You know exactly what we are facing without agents to…"

" _No_ ," he snarled, pointing his hammer towards her, making her flinch slightly, gripping the ladder tight. "Leave." 

"Ag-"

"Excuse me," Lorelei's voice called up from below, making them both of them freeze. "Can I help you, ma'am?"

The woman forced a smile as she looked down. "I just had a question for the gentleman here."

"Yeah? Well, I'm pretty sure I heard him say no," Lorelei shot back up, her eyes narrowed. "So why don't you go on and skedaddle and find someone else to help you."

The woman pressed her lips together, annoyance on her face as she looked back towards Otto. He just tilted his head, as if to say _'go on.'_

"Alright. I'm leaving." the woman carefully made her way down the ladder, fully aware of Lorelei's glare while Otto resumed his work.   
There were strict policies in place for dealing with civilians. While the field agents were given leeway, she wasn't. She could only give the glaring woman a nod before stalking off. 

Lorelei kept an eye on the woman before she disappeared around the block corner. Once she was out of view, Lorelei's shoulder relaxed as she sighed. 

It wasn't long and Otto descended as well, and the frown on her face shifted to a smile as she turned to face him. Then remembered/realized he was still shirtless and...

Yes. Those were the pectoral majoris, and those were rectus abdominis, and the external oblique. Her fingers twitched and Lorelei forced her gaze up to his face, saw the smirk on his face and quickly looked up at the clouds drifting by on the breeze. "So. Anyways. Um. What was that all about?"  
A dark look flitted across his face as he turned to pick up his discarded shirt and pulled it on. As he remained silent, she glanced back and noticed his scowl. "...or if you don't want to say, that's okay too."

He looked down at her, studying her intently. She offered a hand, unsure what else to do, but wanting to do _something._  
Otto ignored her outstretched hand and closed the distance between them with a few steps before wrapping his arms around her. There was no way she could fight against him even if she wanted to, which she certainly did not. She clutched on to him as he pulled her to his chest, uncaring of the sweat and smell as her fingers dug into his back. 

"...you're not leaving, are you?" She asked, her quiet voice muffled against his chest.

"No," he swore, and it sounded like a swear the way he said it as he pulled her tighter, pressing his lips to her hair. 

"Good. I--" she paused, a smile flitting briefly across her face as she pressed her cheek against his chest. "The cats would miss you." 

There was still a faint flush to her cheeks as Otto pulled back, giving her a skeptical look. The mischievous smile on Lorelei's face faded as he placed his forefinger beneath her chin, his thumb brushing her bottom lip. "Just the cats?"

She was struck silent, meeting his grey-blue eye and unable to look away. Not as his thumb rubbed across her lip slowly, his own gaze concentrated on the pink hue.   
There was a sharp clatter and a cacophony of feline hisses, shocking both out of the moment. "Shit! The chicken!"

\--+--

The cats had made short work of the chicken Lorelei had been preparing. "...You want to go out to eat?" She asked after they got the last piece from Hugo, who had dragged his trophy underneath Otto's bed and hung on as Otto dragged it out and lifted both chicken leg and cat in the air.  
He merely shrugged, waiting to see how long the orange tabby could hold on while dangling in the air. Hugo snarled, his green eyes glaring at Otto.

"...There's a diner a few streets over that has some decent food. A good mom and pop joint that isn't fancy or anything." Lorelei snickered at the sight of the two glaring at each other. "Oh for goodness sake you two. Hugo, it'll be better cooked. I promise once it's deboned, you can have your fair share." She wrapped her arms around the fluffy cat, who finally let go of the chicken leg though gave a plaintive yowl as he adjusted himself in her arms. 

"Spoiled," Otto chided playfully as he shook the chicken leg towards the cat.

"Oh, _I_ spoil them, Mr. Cook enough eggs every morning to feed everyone?" Lorelei laughed as she allowed the cat to jump down on the floor. "I don't even want to think about how much you spend on eggs. Which, by the way, I need to pay you for my fair share of groceries. You keep sneaking off when I'm at work."

"Hmm, no," he decided as he turned to leave, making her frown.

"What? No?" She chased after him as he descended the stairs. "Otto!" 

"No." 

"I eat that food too," she pushed. "So I should pay for half of it."

" _Nej_."

"Nej?" She paused for a moment, "Wait, do you mean no? Ugh, you are incorrigible!"

“ _Jag vet inte vad det betyder._ "

"I don't know what that means!" 

Otto laughed, pausing suddenly, making Lorelei stumble into him. There was a playful pout on her face as she tried not to smile. "I mean it, though. Let me pay you back. Plus the whole roof thing," she said, gesturing overhead. "I don't even wanna know how much that cost."  
He looked upwards and shrugged. "Rent."

"Rent?!" She spluttered, shocked. "I-what? No! Y-you don't owe me rent! Especially that much! Besides, if you could afford that much in rent, why are you staying with me in this hovel of a house?" 

Which was the core of both her arguement and her deep-seated worry. If Otto could afford all of that, why was he staying with her? 

"The cats." He teased, making her blush return. 

"T-they're your cats," she argued weakly. 

"Nej, _our_ cats," he guided her to look back towards him, enjoying the blush as well as the soft expression on her face as she took in his words. His meaning. Her hand came up to tangle with his. 

"Ours, huh?" Her smile returned and became playful. "Maybe you should let me help feed them then."  
He rolled his eye with a smile on his face before grabbing her coat from the rack and draping it over her shoulders. "You're impossible."

"Yeah, well, you're the one that apparently _wants_ to put up with me," she busied herself with settling into her coat before looking back at him, heartwarming as he offered his arm to her to hold on to, an indescribable expression on his face.

"I do."

\--+--

The diner wasn't terribly busy, just a few couples and the lone family quietly eating as some easy-listening music played lowly in the background. Lorelei didn't miss how Otto automatically drifted to the corner booth in the back from where he could keep an eye on everyone. It left her with having her back to the rest of the diner, but knowing Otto was watching out for her settled her nerves.

Honestly, it went a lot better than she had worried about on the walk over. Just supper like every other night, except without the hassle of some of the cats trying to snitch off their plates. Quiet companionship, though occasionally, Lorelei would reach over a snag a french fry with a mischievous smile on her face.   
Retaliation was when she had ordered an ice cream sundae as dessert, and he helped himself. She feigned offense, which was ruined by her laughter. The thing was big enough to share anyways. 

She had to keep reminding herself this wasn't anything special or different, despite the butterflies that would occasionally flutter to life inside her chest. Just an impromptu outing with her roommate. Friend. He was definitely her friend. (Even if her heart was crying for more.)

"Well, well, well, if it ain't the half-nigger nurse," a drunken voice broke the comfortable quietness, making Lorelei freeze. Her gaze caught Otto's, who's faint expression of humor fell as he looked from her to the approaching two men. They barely gave him a second glance; however, their attention focused solely on Lorelei. "I thought we made it clear that you weren't allowed to eat with us whites anymore."

"The owner doesn't seem to have a problem with us here," she said, hands fisted in her skirt as she kept her eyes focused on the dark buttons of Otto's coat. "So maybe you shouldn't either." 

"I bet Bob doesn't see how many niggers come in and out of your place at odd hours of the night," the other sneered. "Might as well put a red light on your porch, you whor--" 

Lorelei bristled, a snarl on her lips as she turned. But in that short time, Otto had stood, towering over two with a dark look on his face. The whole diner had their eyes on them as Otto stared them down, his countenance even more severe with his eye’s still-healing wound. 

Any sane person would have backed down. But either the two men had one too many or were lacking in common sense. "What?" The man stepped forward, trying to puff out his chest to look as imposing. "You're going defend her honor? Like she has any?"

"Otto…" Lorelei slipped from her seat, well aware of everybody's eyes on them. Her hand settled on Otto's arm, causing him to look down to her, his expression softening minutely. "Let's just go home." 

"Nah, I'm going to tell this dumb bag of rocks exactly what kind of-" The man reached out for Otto's coat, which also happened to be his blind side. 

Otto grabbed the man's wrist in a blur of movement, twisting it with a disturbing crack that echoed through the diner. The man fell to his knees, his scream of pain drowned but the other patrons’ cries. Loreli winced and looked away just as Otto kicked the man square in the chest with enough force to slam him into the nearby chairs. 

"You bastard!" The man's buddy yelled, barely drawing his fists before Otto turned to him the same time Lorelei grabbed a knife from the table and stepped between the two. 

"You're gonna back off," she snarled. Except the man proved not to feel threatened by the short woman with a blunted knife. He grabbed a handful of her hair before she could swing, yanking painfully. 

Lorelei dropped the knife with a gasp of pain, which her attacker echoed seconds later as Otto's hand wrapped itself quickly around the man's neck, his fingers digging into the man's skin.

The man quickly let go of Lorelei's hair as he tried to pry Otto's grip off with little success. It was easy to see his face paling as blood started to seep around Otto's fingernails.

"Otto, Otto!" Lorelei snapped him out of the blood lust as she tugged on his coat. His grip didn't ease in the slightest bit as he looked down to her. "Let him go."  
He didn't want to, but the pleading expression on her face convinced him. He tossed the man like a ragdoll at his friend, knocking both of them into the nearby table. "Let's get out of here," she murmured as she slipped her hands around his, pulling softly.

Otto finally took note of the rest of the diner. Many of the other patrons had already fled, while one of the servers was already on the phone, their eyes wide with fear.  
He didn't care much about their feelings. The fear was nothing new to him. But the worry Lorelei's face tugged at him with a new sense of guilt as she led him out the door. No one said a word to them even after Lorelei left a wad of bills to cover the food and then some. 

The walk home was quiet for the first block as Lorelei's heart gradually returned to a somewhat average pace. "Are-" she started, looking up to her silent companion next to her, easily keeping pace with her quick stride with his long legs. He paused from keeping a lookout as they walked and met her gaze. "Are you okay?" She continued a bit quietly. 

His sharp gaze softened somewhat. "I'm fine."

"Right! Right, silly of me to ask," she continued quickly. "I mean, you've had your eye removed without sedation. God, that was probably nothing for you."   
It was actually _was_ nothing for him, but her comment caused him to realize the nurse wasn't as used to fighting as he was. Her tanned skin was paler than usual, and he could see her shaking despite her arms crossed across her chest. 

He paused, a hand settling on her shoulder to draw her out of her thoughts. "Are you okay?"

"Y-yeah! I'm fine," was her immediate response, though it was easy to tell she was lying by the way her gaze darted everywhere but him, her whole body tense as a bowstring. "I-I should be," she amended after a moment, running a hand through her hair gingerly. "Shit like that happens more often than I like to admit."   
He touched her chin, encouraging her to meet his gaze. Maybe a few hairs were missing from her head, but she was otherwise unharmed. Rattled would be the word he would use, something that he was unused to dealing with. 

His brothers had dealt with close calls and brushes with death reservedly. Even when Oscar had been killed right in front of them, neither him nor Axel had allowed it to affect them. ~~or at least not outwardly. Inwardly, it had felt like his heart had been ripped from his chest, leaving nothing but a howling pit in its absence.~~

"No more,' he stated simply, confusing Lorelei for a moment. "I'll protect you." 

Lorelei’s expression shifted into a faint smile as her whole body relaxed. She hesitated for a moment before taking a step closer and wrapping her arms around him. Her head rested against his chest as his own arms settled around her waist. He couldn't resist the urge to press a kiss against her hair as he pulled her tight.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> a note I had made while writing and it was just too funny note to share. 
> 
> Lorelei, maybe standing around 5’5, threatens a man with a butter knife in an attempt to protect an uninjured 6’5 Otto. 
> 
> Otto: I don't know if I should be amused, worried, or proud. But I am definitely aroused by this.
> 
> The man grabs Lorelei, making her gasp in pain.
> 
> Otto: … This man is literally asking for death. And I will deliver.


	6. Six

The Recruiter frowned as she watched from across the plaza at the remnants of Klaus' cult. So many timelines messed up by the fourth Hardgreeve. Time was able to shift around the distrubed lives, and thankfully none of them were critical changes to the timeline, but it was still another mark. 

If the Commission was at full strength, they would be able to nudge those lives back in place, whether passively or with aggressive action. But at the moment, anything not rated as Critical was allowed to go unaddressed. 

That's why she was here. They needed agents, new and old. And one of their most senior agents was sitting on the steps of the Destiny's Children's bus, reading a book as the rest of the group preached love and peace to the crowd. 

She could almost understand why Agent Otto had declined her invite. He was still recuperating from his injuries. Some peace and quiet was probably good for him (he'd tire of it soon enough, she surmised. A man that lived nearly 20 years of missions wasn't meant for a dull civilian life.) 

But Agent Axel? The man was a legend just as his brothers. And unlike them, he had come out of the Handler's plot with barely a scratch. So why the hell was he sitting on the hippies' bus reading a book of poems?

She straightened her jacket before walking towards him. Maybe he just needed a way back. Imagine if she was able to lead a legendary agent such as himself back into the fold. She'd get the recognition she deserved. They would see she was meant to be more than just a secretary. That she--

The Recruiter stopped dead in her tracks as Axel whipped his pistol from his pocket and aimed directly for her head. All the while barely turning his head to continue reading his book, an undisturbed expression on his face. "A-agent Axel, I-"

She was silenced as he cocked the gun with a simple movement of his thumb, while his other hand skillfully turned the page. His dark steel eyes finally turned towards her, the serene expression on his face hardening slightly. She attempted to swallow the lump in her throat before starting again. "The Acting Director of the Commission would like to speak with you."

"...No." He uncocked his gun and returned it to its holster as his attention returned to his book. Dismissing her as easily as that.

"B-but! We need agents like you! You and your brothers-!'

She was cut off again by that dark look on his face. He marked his place with a ribbon before standing. The Recruiter trembled as he stalked the short distance between them, unable to look away from his cold grey eyes. 

It was like looking at the face of Death itself.

He paused only a few inches away and leaned to whisper in her ear. "You will leave. And you will not return. Understood?" 

She couldn't even nod, but the terror in her eyes was enough of an answer. 

\--+--

Lorelei had a feeling she should have just stayed in bed. 

The cats had clawed holes in her stockings. Her bus was late, meaning she was late for her shift, and then her supervisor had given her a tear down about punctuality and appearances.

And now John Doe was wide awake, glaring at her as if she had personally been the one to cut off his leg. 

"Good morning," she greeted, closing the door to the room behind her. "How are you feeling?"

She was unsurprised by his silence as he continued to watch her with narrowed eyes. Pale icy blue that reminded her of a very displeased cat. "Probably not the best, I reckon," she continued, standing about a foot away from the side of the bed. Both to give him space and in case he was able to slip from the restraints. "I have your morning doses of antibiotics and pain killers."

"No," he stated firmly. And it felt like deja vu yo her. 

"I can understand if you don't want to be doped up anymore. But you at least need the antibiotic." she tried with her gentle persuasion. "Septicemia is quite a serious thing." 

He shifted as much as he could to lean towards her. "Let. Me. Go." 

Her gut told her niceties were not going to work here. She hoped bluntness would. "And go where, exactly? Your leg is still healing, you still need high doses of antibiotics because the infection went systemic. You leave this hospital and you'll be dead within a week." 

He blinked, completely unmoved. "I need to piss." 

She flushed, more embaressmed about assuming than his comment. "Oh. That I can do...as long as you promise not to try anything funny." 

He stayed silent but tugged at the restraint. Against Lorelei's better judgement, she conceded. She half expected him to lunge for her as soon as she undid the restraints, but he merely sat on the edge of the bed, looking at the white dressings that covered the stump of his thigh. 

She allowed him a moment; she could only imagine what kind shock it would be to wake up missing little more than half of a leg. 

"I wonder if I can still kick my brother's ass…."

Lorlei blinked, sure she had misheard him (but good lord was his accent similar to Ottos, which was a surprise she didn't have time to ponder.) "Huh?"

He looked up, looking rather surprised, and she guessed after a moment he hadn't meant to say the last bit aloud. So instead of commenting, she offered her hand. "C'mon. Let's get you to the latrine."

He took her offer, and proved the medically-induced did nothing to lessen his strength. His arm quickly went from using hers to pull him up to wrapping around her shoulders to steady himself. 

Lorlei expected it to be difficult to teach him how to move, but he picked it up easily as he used her to balance himself as they walked the short distance. 

"Where am I?" He finally asked after he was in the bathroom, and she stepped around the corner to give him some semblance of privacy. 

"Parkland Memorial Hospital, in Dallas," she answered before tacking on: "Texas. United-"

"I know where Texas is," he interrupted dryly, though she swore there was a hint of amusement. Again, not unlike Otto's.

Or maybe she just had Otto on her mind. Last night still kept repeating itself in her mind. How sure she was Otto was going to kill that man. 

How she was more worried about what would happen to Otto if he did, rather than the man losing his life. 

"...where are you from?" She asked, filling the silence. "Or for that fact, what's your name? We've been calling you John Doe since you didn't have any ID on you." 

John Doe stayed silent. Worried that he may have worn himself out, she peeked around the corner.

Only to have him stare challengingly at her. "Trying to catch a peek?"

"Oh for heavens sake," she groaned, turning back around. "I'm your nurse. I've seen it all before--yours included." 

"...you liked what you'd seen then?"

Lorelei counted to ten. "I should've just given you a damned urinal and been done with it. But I figured being in bed for weeks you needed to get up and moving." 

Snickers echoed from the small bathroom, easing her temper somewhat. "You're amusing, Miss Nurse." 

"...Lorelei, but my friends call me Lei."

"Do you?" He asked, confusing her. She tilted her head to convey her expression without turning. "Lie?" 

"Jesus Mary and Joseph," she pinched the bridge of her nose. "You're going to be one of those patients, aren't you?" 

"General pain in the ass, yes," he answered. "That seems to be everyone's opinion of me. So can I have some actual privacy, or are we going to be waiting here forever?" 

"Definitely giving you a urinal next time," she muttered. "Yes. Use the call bell if you need help, otherwise I'll go fetch the doctor." 

It wasn't until after she left that she realized he had evaded all of her questions. 

\--+--

A few doctors filled the small room some time later, and Lorelei wasn't exactly sure why she was present, but Dr. Edwards barred her from leaving, making her awkwardly stand by the door as he and the Administrator Wilford stood before John Doe, who was settled into bed, sans restraints this time. "Let's get down to business then; What's your name?" Wilford asked, readying his clipboard.

"Mickey Mouse," the blonde man answered with a slight smirk. The administor paused, a frown crossing his face while Lorelei had to cough to hide her own smile.

"Now look son, I understand things have been pretty rough for you, and having a sense of humor is good and all, but let's be serious now."

John Doe nodded his head, looking chastened. "Right, sorry." There was a beat before he met the Administor's eye and with a straight face answered. "My name is Donald Duck."

The doctor gave Lorelei a dark look at the slight laugh that escaped her lips, and she glanced away quickly, covering her smile. However, when she glanced back John Doe was looking at her, amusement in his eyes. 

"Very funny," Wilford continued, glaring at Lorelei. "But what is your name, boy."

"Bruce Wayne."

Wilford went to write it down, and Loreli worried her lip, weighing the pros and cons of keeping her mouth shut before clearing her throat and commenting: "That's Batman, sir."

John Doe grinned at her, pleased she caught the reference. She returned the smile despite herself before Wilford snapped his pen. "Godman boy, do you think this is all fun and games, or are you just slow?"

"I think you're the slow one," he answered, shifting his head. "One would think you realize by now I'm not giving you my name." 

"Why not?"

"Because it's none of your business."

"None of our business?! You're our patient in my hospital! We need to contact your next of kin and find out where the hell you belong."

His eyes darkened. "Knowing my name won't help with that." 

"Can we at least call someone for you?" Lorelei asked softly. 

"No."

" What about parents?" She pressed gently. Do you have any siblings?"

"No." His eyes grew cold and hard as he glared at her. "No one."

"I think that will be enough," Dr. Edwards finally spoke. "Maybe after you feel more cooperative, we can discuss this further. As it is, with everything the way it is, I don't see you suitable for discharge any time soon."

\--+--

By the end of the shift Lorelei felt a migraine stabbing behind her eyes as she rode the bus home, feeling every slight bump and jerk.

The main cause, she was sure, was the John Doe in 281B. Who refused to say anything to anyone after the 'interrogation" by the Administrator. He did, however, prove to be one of the most uncooperative patients the hospital ever had the grace to treat. 

And somehow also one of the ones that tugged at her heartstrings. Maybe the fact he was alone, or the fact he had a dark, lost look on his face when he thought no one was watching that reminded her yet again of Otto.

The white hair and strong jaw didn't help. Or the fact he had the same accent. If she hadn't known better, she would've sworn they were related somehow. 

Especially since they both liked to see what odd things they could use as darts. She had to admit, however, that the fact that he somehow got his silverware from lunch wedged in the ceiling tiles was rather impressive. 

The bus finally rolled into the stop in her neighborhood, and Lorlei dragged herself down the few blocks remaining, bag slung gracelessly over her shoulder. All she wanted to do is collapse, even if it was just on her old lumpy couch. 

But there were the cats. And if the last week was anything to go by, Otto was probably still working on the roof (she still didn't understand what spurred him to do such a thing. And he still refused to accept any repayment) which meant it was up to her to cook supper. 

Maybe he would be okay with the diner again, even after the other night. But that meant having to wait even longer until she could sleep and….

Otto wasn't on the roof. She frowned as she walked along the broken pavement that led to the front door. Granted he had done a lot already…. (Had he been a carpenter sometime in the past? Was that a question safe for her to ask?) 

Nala, Freyja, and Hugo greeted her as soon as she opened the door, wrapping around her legs as she slipped off her shoes. The house was filled both with warmth and the scent of something delicious simmering. Lorele's heart quickened to see Otto in the kitchen, looking completely at home despite his frame. 

She wasn't sure what she had done in her life to deserve a person like him in her life, but she was so very thankful. Without thinking, she slipped into the kitchen, too tired to rethink her impulse to wrap her arms around his hip, resting her head against his muscular back. 

\--+--

Otto heard the door open and close, and Lorelei greeting the cats that met her at the door. She sounded...exhausted. He mentally shrugged, working on supper while listening to her slip off her shoes, her stockinged feet as quiet as a cat's as she padded into the kitchen. After the second shift in a row, she often came home worn to the bone, ready to crumple on the couch and fall asleep without bothering to unpin her cap from her hair. Which was why he had taken the initiative to have supper (mostly) finished before she returned. 

He froze slightly as Lorelei wrapped her arms around his hips, pressing her head against his back between his shoulder blades. "I appreciate you so much." She mumbled into his shirt, making him relax. "I'm pretty sure I would just go to bed hungry without you." 

A smile twitched on his lips, unseen as she continued to lean on him. He tried to keep still while finishing supper, enjoying the warmth and weight against him. When he made a slight movement, she would resettle herself with a sleepy noise, her arms tightening around his hips briefly.

Maybe civilian life wasn't so horrible with moments like this. 

Lorelei made a small sound of protest when he finally had to break the moment, looking half asleep when he turned towards her. "Sit down, Älskade."

She gave him a curious look, he didn't explain but gave a soft smile before tapping the tip of her nose. She wrinkled it slightly, making him smile wider before ushering her to the table. 

"How do you make someone behave when they're being so darn obstinate?" She asked as she sat, petting the cats that were demanding attention. Otto paused before he held up the bloody butcher knife sitting near the sink, making her frown as she caught the implication. "I can't threaten him, Otto. He's my patient!"

He tilted his head and thought as he served the food. Nothing fancy, but Lorelei's stomach growled as she placed the cats down on the floor. "I will."

"What? No!" Despite her protest, a small smile appeared on her face. "You know, I forget you're a violent man sometimes."

He shrugged as he sat across from her. He was perfectly acceptable if she forgot that part of him. Because it meant that she did feel threatened by him. 

"Maybe if I threaten him with you, he'll cooperate?" She continued to muse, stabbing a diced potato. "But how: 'behave or my roommate will come and threaten you?'" 

"Or I'll kill him." He joked, grinning at her scowl. 

"That would make the whole point of saving his life moot." She shook the potato at him, blushing as he leaned across the small table and bit it off her fork. She tried to pretend she wasn't affected as she focused on her plate instead of the playful expression on his face. "I-I mean, the poor boy has had enough. I mean, could you imagine having your leg blown off? And then not having any kin around?"

Lorelei almost missed the way Otto tensed, his expression turning dark before he closed his eyes, forcing those thoughts and memories away. Though when he opened them, she had a concerned look on her face, head tilted slightly. "Everything okay?"

" _Ja_ ," he forced a smile. He could tell she didn't believe him, but again, she didn't push. 

"Anyways, I saw that you have half the roof done already…"

\--+--

Lorlei was still yawning the next morning when she arrived at the hospital the next morning, the lights flickering to full brightness to announce the morning 

"Oh praise the angels," the night nurse proclaimed when she saw Lorelei walk into the nurses station. It was a familiar sentiment, but usually from a different nurse, not hard-norse Doris. "I was thinking morning would never come."

"Oh?"

She waved her hand towards the infamous room near the end of the hall. "That devil of a boy. I swear he's Lucifer's own kin."

"...John Doe?"

"Yes!" She huffed, "I hope them doctors do something wise like put him on haldol. Two am and he's singing at the top of his lungs in bad english to some made up song! Woke half of the unit up! And be careful, he's hiding silverware. Threw a fork at the orderlie rounding at him, nicked his ear! He needs to be asylum!" 

Lorlei listened and eventually had to prod the older nurse into a proper report on the other patients. However, she kept her words in mind as she did her rounds, saving his room for last. 

John Doe didn't look quite as angry as the morning before, and had even a little color to his face as he looked over to her. "Did the old goat finally leave?"

"Doris is not an old goat," Lorelei chided as she prepared to take his vitals. Her protest wasn't quite heartfelt, as she had thought the old woman a biddy at times. "She's an experienced nurse as a good mentor."

He snorted and muttered something under his breath, but otherwise stayed quiet. After noting everything down, satisfied that his vitals was within normal limits considering he reportedly hadn’t let anyone come within three feet of him, she sighed and adjusted her stethoscope. "Look. If you don't start behaving they are going to pump you full of haldol and benzos that you won't ever even be able to look straight."

His faint smirk faded and his glare returned as he remained silent. "I know things are hard, but you don't look insane to me. Or stupid for that matter. I'd hate for you to wind up in an asylum with drool running down your chin after everything you've been through."

John Doe continued to glare at her despite her attempt at humor, though she swore she could see him thinking over her words. "You don't need to like us, but we are here to help. We aren't going to hurt you. Hell, I'm pretty sure most the staff already want you outta here as much as you do. Just work with us, ok?"

He rolled his eyes, but pulled something from beneath his blanket and threw it at her. She barely caught the pen before it clattered to the floor. "Wait. This is my pen!"

He shrugged. "You need to pay more attention."

Lorlei pressed her lips together, debating her words as she set out the supplies to change his dressing. "You better behave or my housemate will come threaten you."

John Doe raised a pale eyebrow at Lorelei, a faint smirk on his face. "I'm not scared."

"You should be," she said, half teasingly. "He's easily six foot five, has muscles thicker than your head, missing an eye. He's a scary dude."

That seemed to interest him, his head tilted slightly "Boy friend?"

"N-no!" she stuttered, "Not...not exactly."

"Oh? He's gay then?" He seemed so blase about the taboo subject, and not even the sneer she expected. But actually...interested?

"What?! No, I don't... I dont think so…"

"Hmm, shame." She paused and looked over at him quizzically. He smiled slyly at her, winking at her. "He sounds cute."

"Oh my god," She wheezed, trying not to laugh at his boldness. No one else in Dallas, or Texas, would ever say such a thing, yet he was so flamboyant about it. "Y-you're horrible!"

"You're cute too," he playfully reassured her as he leaned back in the hospital bed. "But very annoying. Like a bossy sister."

"Yeah, your like an annoying little brother." To his annoyance, she ruffled his hair. There was a melancholy expression on his face, making her regret her actions. "You okay?"

"I'm missing half my leg," he answered with a deadpan expression. 

"I-" she stuttered before he started to snicker. She rolled her eyes. "Oh for goodness sake. I have other patients I need to tend to. Ring if you need anything, you brat." 

"Love you too, _syrra!_ "


End file.
